


No.26 Recovery

by LiGi



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [26]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caring Merlin (Merlin), FebuWhump2021, Feels, Gen, Healing, Hurt Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Men Crying, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Lancelot (Merlin), Recovery, Tenderness, could be gwaincelot, magical healing, no 26
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Febuwhump 2021 day 26 - RecoveryFollow on from no. 21 - Lancelot and Gwaine recover from brutal torture.
Relationships: Gwaine & Lancelot (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137632
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	No.26 Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the brilliant Onehelluvapilot - Who writes lovely febuwhumps that you should go and read too.

_Follow on from no.21 (Torture)_

Lancelot woke violently, wrenching his mind from the nightmare with a yell. He could still hear Gwaine’s terrible screams echoing in his head; despite being safely away from their torturers and back in Camelot, he’d never be free from that torture.

He dragged his eyes open as a hand gripped his uninjured one. Merlin was perched on the side of his bed, leaning over him with a worried smile. He pushed Lancelot’s sweaty hair off of his forehead, cupping the side of his head.

“Gwaine?” Lancelot rasped, trying to push himself upright.

“He’s alright,” Merlin soothed, continuing to stroke Lancelot’s hair, effectively holding him down on the bed at the same time. “He’s getting better every day.”

With a barely contained whimper, Lancelot sagged back into his pillow. He knew Merlin had cast as many healing spells on Gwaine as he could. He’d wanted to do more but Gaius had cautioned him against trying, not wanting Arthur to get suspicious if Gwaine healed too quickly. The best he could do was make sure there’d be no lasting damage.

“I need to see him,” Lancelot asked, coughing against his dry throat. Merlin’s mouth turned down at the corners as he very slowly helped his friend to sit up, holding a cup of herby smelling water to his lips. Lancelot sipped it, tasting the familiar bitter tang of willow bark.

They had been back in Camelot for three days, holed up in the physician’s chambers to recover from their awful ordeal. Lancelot was in Merlin’s room, the familiar surroundings helping to calm him whenever his mind wandered back to the torture cell. Merlin sleeping on the floor beside the bed also helped. Gwaine was on a cot in the main chamber so he was never too far from Gaius if needed. Lancelot hadn’t had a chance to see him since they’d been brought back.

“Gaius says you shouldn’t be up yet,” Merlin started, putting the empty cup back on the bedside table.

“Please, Merlin.”

Lancelot’s chest constricted and suddenly he found it hard to breathe. He needed to check on Gwaine. He needed to see for himself that his friend was alright. That the injuries he had suffered under torture were healing. That his beautiful gregarious spirit had not been broken.

Before he knew it, he was gasping, panicking, overwhelmed by the memory of Gwaine’s screams, the sound of his bones breaking and his shoulders dislocating as the crank of the Rack turned. Merlin’s bedroom faded out of his sight as blackness swarmed over his vision. He moaned, tears spilling from his eyes, pain washing over him as if he could still feel the torturer’s tools on him.

He thrashed, trying to get away, to get to Gwaine, to…

“Lancelot!”

Warmth spread across his chest, a friendly, comforting warmth that reminded him of safety, and home. He latched onto the feeling, pulling himself back like a drowning man kicking for the surface. His eyes focussed onto two golden pools of light in front of him and gradually he managed to break through the darkness in his mind enough to see they were Merlin’s eyes.

“Hey, hey, Lancelot, it’s alright.” Merlin had a hand on Lancelot’s chest, magic radiating from it, grounding him.

Lancelot gulped, a sob breaking free from his trembling lips. Merlin gently pulled him to his chest, mindful of his heavily bandaged torso and splinted left hand.

“Merlin,” Lancelot breathed into the soft red neckerchief his face was buried in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Merlin said fiercely. “Do you think you’re strong enough to get up?” Lancelot nodded shakily. “Come on, I’ll take you to see Gwaine.”

Putting an arm around Lancelot’s back, Merlin helped him scoot to the edge of the bed. Wincing, he swung his legs over and put weight on his aching feet. He swayed slightly, but Merlin’s strong hands on his back and chest held him up as he took a deep breath and stood.

Ever so slowly, and leaning heavily against Merlin, he limped to the steps and down out of Merlin’s room. Gwaine’s cot was beside Gaius’s workbench, and Lancelot almost fell as he tried to hurry towards it. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying when he saw Gwaine.

His face was a mess of bruising, one side of his beard shaved away so a poultice could be spread over a large slice down his jaw. There were bandages wrapped around his head. And even more over his torso. Both of his arms, which had been dislocated at the shoulders, were bound down over his chest to hold the newly realigned joints still, one strapped with splints to correct a break as well.

Gaius was mopping Gwaine’s sweaty brow but looked up when Merlin helped Lancelot closer to the bed.

“Lancelot!” The physician quickly got up from his chair, beckoning for Merlin to lower Lancelot down into it instead. “Why are you out of bed?”

“He needed to see Gwaine,” Merlin said and Lancelot caught him giving Gaius a meaningful look.

“He is strong, he will recover from this,” Gaius said confidently, his hand gently patting Gwaine’s chest.

“L’nce…” Gwaine’s eyes cracked a little open and he groaned heavily, trying to roll to his side to face Lancelot. Gaius held his chest, preventing him from moving and he screwed his eyes back up in pain.

“Try not to move, my lad,” he said quietly.

Lancelot reached forwards, his own hand landing on the opposite side to Gaius’s, his frantic fingers tracing the edge of a bandage. Gwaine gave an exaggerated wince and a groan and Lancelot withdrew his hand quickly.

“Gwaine! I’m sorry, did I –” he began, worry thick in his voice but he broke off when a tired grin spread across Gwaine’s bruised face.

“Got ya,” he said wryly, his voice hoarse but tinged with mirth. His eyelids peeled open again, and Lancelot could have wept at the spark he saw in the green eyes. Merlin gave a slightly watery chuckle beside Lancelot.

“I’ll get you some more tincture for the pain,” Gaius said, smiling down at Gwaine then giving Lancelot’s shoulder a squeeze as well.

“How are you, Gwaine?” Merlin asked, sinking to his knees beside Lancelot’s chair, his elbows resting on Gwaine’s bed.

“’ve been better.” He kicked one leg sluggishly, hissing in pain. “You, Lance?”

Lancelot frowned and shrugged. “About the same.”

He tentatively reached a hand out again, letting it hover over Gwaine’s hand, which was tucked under his chin due to his arms being strapped to his chest, but this time not touching.

“Please,” Gwaine whispered, nodding slightly against his pillow as best as he could.

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“I was messing with you, Lance. It didn’t hurt,” Gwaine said with a hint of bravado. Merlin scoffed, clearly seeing straight through his lie. “Alright, it did hurt, but not that much,” he conceded.

Lancelot didn’t move his hand until Gwaine tried to lift his own fingers, brushing one against Lancelot’s palm. The tips of his fingers were carefully bandaged, covering the raw skin where his nails had been ripped from them, the same as Lancelot’s own hands. He curled his fingers gently around Gwaine’s and Gwaine gave him another lopsided grin, wincing as it pulled the cut on his jaw.

“Glad we got out of there,” he said roughly. “Not our best quest.”

Lancelot couldn’t stop the small snort of laughter that broke from him, even as tears welled in his eyes again. “That’s putting it mildly.”

He felt Merlin’s hand pressing warm against his lower back as he ducked his head to wipe the tears from his face.

“We’re gonna be alright?” Gwaine asked, a small shake in his voice, like he was worried about the answer, his eyes flicked to Merlin, then up to Gaius as he came back over with a small cup.

“You should both make a full recovery,” the physician assured him.

Lancelot chewed his lip. Recovery could not come soon enough, for he wanted nothing more than to see Gwaine up and about, swinging his sword or playing a joke on Arthur. To give him a hug without the worry of hurting him. And for himself; he hated being stuck in the physician’s chambers, unable to do anything. Unable to be useful to his king and his friends.

Lancelot relinquished his hold on Gwaine’s hand as Merlin slid a very careful hand underneath Gwaine’s head, apologising when he groaned and screwed his eyes shut in agony. He lifted him fractionally, enough so that Gaius could spoon the pain relieving potion into his mouth, letting just a tiny amount trickle between his lips each time. Gwaine winced with every swallow, but by the time he’d finished the cupful the pained creases in his brow had eased a little and his breathing was less haggard.

“Thank you,” he muttered to Gaius. “Don’t s’pose I can have some ale now?”

Gaius gave him a look that was half fondness and half reproach, going back over to his workbench and stirring something.

“I have some poppy laced wine for you later, Gwaine, but it’ll send you to sleep, so I’ll give it to you after the king has been down to see you.”

“Arthur’s coming?” Lancelot asked, trying to straighten in his chair.

“As soon as he’s finished his council meeting,” Merlin said with a nod. “In fact I’d better go and tell him you’re both awake, he’ll want to wrap the meeting up and get down here.”

“Merlin, no,” Lancelot protested weakly. “Not if he’s busy. His duties are more important.”

Merlin gave Lancelot a look that said he was being too self-deprecating as he bounced to his feet.

“You’re two of his favourite knights – not that he plays favourites, of course,” he added with a grin, already halfway to the door, calling back over his shoulder. “He’ll want to be down here to see you both. He’s been to check on you several times in the last two days, but you’re usually asleep.”

Lancelot pulled a face; he didn’t feel like he’d slept at all, what with the nightmares, and the pain, but Merlin was gone before Lancelot could argue.

“You alright, Lance?” Gwaine’s quiet voice drew his attention back down to his friend and Lancelot gave him a weary smile.

“Better now I know you’re recovering.”

He shifted his hand up to the side of Gwaine’s face, letting his fingertips push the hair away from his cheek. Gwaine rolled his head towards Lancelot, effectively trapping his fingers under his head so his cheek was cupped by his palm. It stung fiercely where his nail-less fingers pressed against their bandages and down into the pillow, but Lancelot wasn’t going to move. He let his thumb rub over the shell of Gwaine’s ear where it poked out under his bandages. And for the first time since they had been captured he felt content in the knowledge they were safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I love and all comments!


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